I’m loving Andrew Marvell’s To His Coy Mistress. What a seduction technique: Your coyness might be cute if we weren’t going to die some day, but we’re mortal so let’s fuck. Ha. Read the poem out loud and pay attention to enjambment. It’s really lovely.

"The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace."





              		
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